Alone Is Safer
by Tauntingly Haunted
Summary: Cameron Morgan has been abandoned all throughout her life. Can she deal with it? Can she deal with any of it? Will she push everyone away or will they take themselves away? As she knows far too well, alone is safer. This is my first one-shot! It has very little, almost no Zammie, just saying! Don't get your hopes up.


**Hey guys! This is my first one-shot so please enjoy and when you're done just click that review button and let me know what you thought!**

**Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish I did, I do not own the Gallagher Girls or Zach. Sadly, Ally Carter does (even though if I did, the books would be nowhere near as amazingly awesome as they are now!) I do own this plot and idea, though so no stealing!**

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She sat huddled in the corner, a dim figure that nobody would ever notice. That was her intent. She always shrinks away. She hides herself. She hides the Cameron Morgan that no one would remember no matter how hard she, or they tried. She is nobody.

Don't get me wrong, she has friends. They just don't know they real Cameron Morgan. They never give her nicknames like the rest of their friends have. They don't ask about her weekend or how her day is going. They just tell her about their problems.

Macey is the worst. She's already incredibly self involved, but when you get her around someone as quiet as Cammie, she doesn't think anyone else exists. The tall, black-haired beauty had her own problems. She didn't want to deal with someone elses problems. Besides, they just want a pity party. Macey doesn't stand for pity parties . . . unless its her own.

Bex doesn't try to ignore Cam, but it just ends up that way. Bex is this amazingly boisterous being with no intent on holding back to keep up with Cameron's snail-like pace. She doesn't realize that while she is zipping around being Bex that Cammie is forever alone yet still trying to keep up with Bex. Because Cammie isn't slow - she just doesn't have anything to rush for.

Liz is probably the sweetest of the bunch. She has absolutely no malign thoughts in her head, but she just gets so caught up in her schoolwork that she doesn't realize that her best friend needs her. Liz is a verifiable genius. She even goes to these summer camps . . . as teachers . . . even though she's only sixteen. Sometimes, she feels like she has no one to talk to about anything meaningful. Well, except for Jonas. He can actually keep up a conversation about something Liz cares about unlike Bex, whose sole existence relies on the mixed martial arts classes she takes and her boyfriend, Grant.

Cammie feels like she is exceedingly average compared to Macey, the fearless fashionista, Bex, the "I will break your arm in five different places if you ever call me Rebecca" threatener, and Liz, the computer (and pretty much anything else) genius. All Cameron is good at is not being seen.

She feels it every time she goes home. She feels the painful silence that accompanies the emptiness of the house. She can't really complain, though. She knows its much worse when she can hear the drunken rummaging of the slob called her mother. She knows whats going to happen that night.

She would rather be alone.

And that is what she is. She is completely and utterly alone.

Until she met _him._

_He _made her feel special. _He _made her feel noticed. _He _got her to actually open her heart at least partway. _He _wriggled into her life until she couldn't be without him. _He _left her shattered when she needed him most.

It all started with that fateful phone call.

Wait, it actually started way before then. It started when he left.

She was only eleven and naïve in the ways of the world. She remembers the yelling, the fighting, the nights when her mom would come home late.

She remembers the hateful words thrown between them.

_"BITCH!"_

_"ASSHOLE!"_

_"BASTARD!"_

_"SLUT!" _

She remembers the heart-wrenching sobs of the man who used to stand so tall.

She remembers him leaving. The hasty packing of a suitcase, the violent thud of footsteps down the stairs, the man kneeling before her.

_"Baby, I love you. I'll be back for you. I promise."_

But he didn't keep his promise. He lost the custody battle, something about his job not allowing for a suitable environment for a child.

Like living with her mom is any better . . .

Then came the stuff in between. The sore arms and torso. The heavily applied make-up. The avoidance of physical contact. She stopped talking to people. She grew distant and closed. Her friends didn't know how to react so they just acted like nothing was wrong. This made it worse. She felt neglected, ignored, by the people she needed most. Her mom kept her safely hidden away from her dad. She said it was Cameron's fault that he left, that he doesn't want to see his daughter. Cammie believed her.

Then _he _came, but that is another story, one she would rather not dwell on because he left her right when she needed him. He left her after the phone call, because of the phone call.

_RING. RING. RING. The ringing was insistent and pulled Cammie out of her dark musings. Sighing, she picked up the home phone._

_"Hello?"_

_"Hello is this the Morgan residence?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"We just wanted to confirm the arrangements for the flowers."_

_"What flowers?"_

_"The ones that are to be delivered to the grave every couple of weeks. How often do you want them?"_

_"Hello?"_

_"Hello?"_

_"Are you still there?"_

_"I guess I'll call back later then."_

_"Wait, what grave?"_

_"The grave of one Mathew Morgan. Is this not the correct family?"_

_"He-he's dead?"_

_"Yes for six months now."_

_"What?"_

_"Ummm . . . I'm sorry ma'am. Maybe I have the wrong number."_

_After learning the dreadful news, Cammie shut down totally. She didn't even confront her mom about not telling her. She was too heartbroken. He hadn't come back, and now he never would. Her last hope was gone._

Cammie was still alone. She kept her head down in class, not daring to meet the eyes of those around her. She trudged through the halls, wary of could be tormentors. that was how she managed to run into him.

Zach Goode.

He was definitely not a loner like her. In fact, he tended to run with the popular crowd. He was best friends with Grant, Jonas, and Nick, Macey's boyfriend. Cammie had occasionally seen him before back when she would still hang out with her supposed best friends. He was always arrogant and cocky, the epitome of a player. His tall, lean physique and stunning features helped. His shock of midnight-like hair and emerald green eyes instantly had girls flocking to him. Cammie was immediately put on her guard. She knew people like him. She had even dated one.

"Sorry," she muttered before trying to stumble off. His voice called her back, though.

"Wait, are you new here? I don't remember seeing you around."

She replied blandly and emotionless like a block of cement had formed around her. "Don't worry about it. No one does." With that, she turned back around and blended back into the shadows.

Cammie seemed to take an interest in Zach after that. She watched him sometimes, not in a stalkerish kind off way, but in a curious kind of way. It wasn't surprising that he didn't remember her. No, the curious thing was that for someone with such a reputation as a player, he didn't play very much. Usually, she found him alone amidst his group friends, the ones she once called friends. That is, until she got into it with Bex.

It still haunted her. It was her fault. If she hadn't acted like the slut her mom always said she is, she might still have Bex. Because her mom is always right. The bruises covering her skin is proof enough. she can't blame her mom, though. it was Cammie that made her do it. it was Cammie that made her press the cigarette tip to the seventeen year old's skin. It was Cammie's fault that her mom does this stuff to her. It's to teach her a lesson. It's to help her. She's lucky she has someone to help her. She's lucky to wake up some mornings with broken fingers. She's lucky to sometimes not be able to move because she's so hungry. She's lucky that at least _someone _cares. That someone will never be Bex because no one can love Cammie the way that her mom loves her. That was proven a year ago.

_The party was in full swing. Plastic red cups littered the make-shift dance floor. Sweaty couples gyrate in a way inappropriate to public gatherings. Suddenly, a hand pinched her butt, making her jump. She turned around to find that it was only Grant, Bex's on-again-off-again boyfriend. They were off now. _

_Cammie could smell the alcohol emanating from his pores, but she wasn't worried. After all, it was one of her friends. Grant came closer until his lips brushed her ear._

_"Wanna go somewhere more private?" Cammie jerked away in disgust._

_"Eww! No, Grant. Go find Bex or something." Grant pouted sullenly and only moved a step closer._

_"But she's not as much fun . . . as you." he advanced even farther up until he had her back pressed against a wall as she tried to get as far away from him as possible. He leaned in and tried to press his lips to hers, but she turned her head away. Growling, Grant grabbed her chin and turned her head towards his. _

_His lips crushed hers roughly. She fought him off eventually kneeing him in the groin. He groaned in pain, but didn't have as much effect on him as she wanted. It just made him furious._

_"You're such a fucking tease, Cammie! You act like you're so much better than us, you prude!" he grabbed her breasts and roughly palmed. She let out a strangled whimper before his mouth smothered hers again._

Cammie remembers that that's how Bex found them. She remembers the furious look on her face as she yanked them apart. She remembers the fist flying out of nowhere. It struck her jaw, hitting the already forming bruises from Grant's fingers. Cammie was used to pain, though. This was nothing. She could easily stand this. What came next was much worse.

_"You're nothing but a disgusting little hore! How could you? I thought we were friends? You know how I feel about him! He's my boyfriend, for fucks sake! You're just jealous! you're jealous that I have someone who cares about me. because no one cares about you! Josh just dumped your sorry ass because he couldn't stand being around someone so vacant, someone who wouldn't even put out! Yeah, he told EVERYONE about that! About how you wanted to wait, how you wanted it to be special! Well, guess what? You're not special! you are a plain old nobody! AND EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT! You led Grant on and tried to take advantage of him while he was drunk! Maybe if you were drunk, I would consider forgiving you but nope! You are completely sober. SO GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!_"

Cameron was pulled out of her reverie by the slamming of the door. Uh, oh. Her mom was home.

"Cameron Anne Morgan! Get your ass down here!" Meekly, Cammie obeyed her wishes.

"Why is a hundred dollars missing from the jar," she said pointing to the nearly empty container where Cammie's mom kept all of her booze money.

"I didn't take it mom."

Slap. A hard backhand against the cheek.

"Well, who took it then? I certainly didn't!" The sad thing was, she probably did.

It went on like this for a while that night. Eventually, Cammie just lay slumped on the kitchen floor with plenty of new bruises and blood seeping onto the tile. Cleaning herself up, Cammie went to go finish her homework.

Just another day in the life of Cameron Morgan.

The next day, she was limping around on a bum ankle, but nobody noticed it. Nobody ever notices her.

Or so she thought.

One person did notice.

He went up to her, his green eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you okay? Is something wrong with your ankle?"

Surprised, Cammie managed to stutter out a lie. "Yeah it's fine. I just slipped and fell on the stairs this morning. I can be such a klutz." Zach looked like he didn't know whether to believe her or not.

Sighing, he decided to just let it be. "Okay, if you say so." He walked away, but from that day on he kept an eye on the curious girl.

Weeks went on in that same fashion. Zach eventually learned who she was. He vaguely remembered her from their shared group of friends, but not much stood out. The main thing that came to his mind was that Bex got super mad at her and told her to never talk to any of them again. He didn't even remember what caused this, though.

Zach would try to talk to Cammie, but she always had her guard up. She didn't trust anyone anymore . . . not even herself.

Zach, on his part, never stopped trying. There was something intriguing about this girl, something different. Something in her seemed . . . broken.

Zach started to befriend her, but he knew something was up. She still seemed closed off and would never let him come into her house. She evaded all questions about her home life. Sometimes it seemed like he barely knows her at all. There was a change in Cammie, though. Slowly but surely, she started to let him in. Only one problem. Cammie's mom noticed.

One day, Zach was about to pick Cammie up to go to the library and she was excited. Cammie's mom noticed this and questioned her.

"Why are you acting so damn happy all of a sudden? Are you seeing someone?"

"What?! NO!"

"We both know you're a little slut so just give it up! Who is he?"

"No! I'm not seeing anyone!"

"I don't believe you!" Cammie pleaded with her mom, but her mom still kicked her over and over. Soon, she curled into a ball on the cold tile floor, unconscious.

Zach came by and waited for her to emerge from her house. When that didn't happen, he tried to call her. Sadly, Cammie's phone lay useless in her limp hand.

Concerned, Zach knocked on the door. It wasn't like Cammie to be late or miss anything.

No one answered, but he could hear a rustling inside. Curiously, he peeked in the window in case he could see her. He appeared to be looking at a neglected living room. Objects were strewn around the room carelessly. Distantly, he could see the white tile of what looked like a kitchen. Lying on that tile was what looked like a hand.

A hand with a cell phone in it.

Now Zach was worried. He knew that Cammie was extremely clumsy and hurt herself easily. Without a second thought, he barged through the front door.

He stopped short when he saw the appalling scene before him.

Blood pooled around the inert form thrown across the floor. Her eyes were closed and bruises dotted her cheeks and arms. Her leg was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. Several off her fingers were crushed as if stepped on. Cammie looked dead.

He immediately checked her pulse then sighed in relief. It was still beating strong. He gathered her up in his arms trying not to hurt her anymore than she already is. She groaned in pain.

"Cammie, stay with me! I'm here! It's going to be okay! Just stay with me!" Slowly, she dragged open her eyes.

"Zach," she mumbled. "I'll always stay with you."

With that, she drifted off to sleep again, but this time, she wasn't waking up.

* * *

Her funeral was held outside next to her father's grave. It was an extremely small service. Almost nobody came. Cammie's mom was there, but not standing in front of the grave. No, she was next to it lying in a coffin of her own. She had taken her life after she realized that she had killed her only daughter.

A lone figure stood before the tombstone. His black hair fell into his bleary face. His once sparkling green eyes are now hard, dull rocks. He read the inscription over and over again, the words already memorized.

_Cameron Anne Morgan_

_1995-2012_

_Forever Gone_

_But No Longer Alone_

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**My first one-shot! Hope you like it! I know its sad and angsty, but I didn't really plan it that way. The story kind of wrote itself!**

**Please Review! **


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